Settling In

Posted on Mon Apr 20th, 2009 @ 2:11pm by Captain Elsie Halliwell

1,143 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Wolves in Sheep's Clothing
Location: Lane's Ready Room
Timeline: Current

Commander Lane walked through to the bridge from the turbolift, keeping his eye on the viewscreen, and ambled over towards his ready room, his standard issue boots planting themselves in the deck in front of him, one by one. Petty Officer Andrews stood, his hands cluttered with padds, looking anxiously as the Trill approached.

"Captain… I- uh, can I help you?" he stammered, looking more towards the floor than Lane.

"Not particularly," the commanding officer replied. "I thought I told you to take a few days off. There's little administration to do until Lieutenant Commander Kemmer reaches the Tower. You should make use of it."

"Well, sir," he replied, his delicate, white face flushing as the colour filled his cheeks, "I did. I was called to the bridge earlier this morning… to assist."

Lane stood before him, motionless and quizzical. "Assist with what, Andrews?" he asked, more concerned than curious.

"With Captain Harwood, sir."

Lane looked at him. "Where is she?" he asked, calmly.

Andrews merely looked towards the door. Lane screwed up his face, ever slightly, and nodded. "You're dismissed, Andrews. Take some time off. I'll call you when you are to return to duty. Understood? Now, excuse me."

Lane walked over to the ready room doors, and as they breathed open, he eyes befell on such a sight.

Captain Alexandra Harwood was seated at Commander Lane's desk, looking over several PADDs and leaning back in his chair, Looking up at the Trill, Harwood placed down her PADD, pushing her glasses further up on the bridge of her nose and saying, "Commander. What can I do for you?"

"What can you do for me?" he echoed, locking his brow. "I guess I was just about to ask you the same question. I see that you've made yourself comfortable already. Can I help you, Captain?"

"I have," Harwood said genially, managing a slight smile that did not reach her light eyes. "I'm just catching myself up on your information and...acquainting myself with this ship, Commander. Since going through Rowe.."--catching herself, she paused a moment --"through Commander Arkham's information was proving rather difficult - she never makes things easy, after all- I thought I might forgo trying to deal with her and head straight in here."

"Well, Captain," Lane started with, raising an eyebrow and blowing out air through his cheeks, "next time you want to make use of an office space, I can find you something. You only need to ask." He stood in front of the desk and placed both hands on his hips, looking intently at the woman.

"Of course, Commander. My apologies," the woman said, matching his raised eyebrow with one of her own. "I was unaware you planned on being territorial, and your Executive Officer is...momentarily preoccupied with personal matters. I'll keep this in mind, however."

"Thank you, Captain. I'd appreciate that," he said sporting a wry smile. "As I said, if you require a space to work, then, please, let me know, would you? The same goes should you need to requisite any staff."

"I suppose that is reasonable. By the way, Commander," Harwood said coolly. "I trust my service record was an interesting read? Did Wes find anything else for you yet, or is he still looking in all the wrong places?"

"As you'd expect, your file is highly secured, and, for the moment, out of my reach, I admit to you." He leant on the desk with his hand splayed outwards, supporting his weight, and bent in forwards, narrowing his blue eyes on the woman sat in his chair. "You can't blame me for researching the guests I have onboard my ship, Captain. I believe you'd appreciate that sentiment, Ms Harwood, coming from where you do."

"Oh, I do understand and appreciate the sentiment, believe me," Harwood said coolly. "And believe me, Wes Kemmer is good at his job. Finding out he was attempting to pry into my personal life and fleet record was...marginally harder than attempting to pry into yours."

"Go on," he said.

Harwood smiled a little. "I never walk into a situation if I don't know everything about everyone involved. Your crew is young -- there's not much interesting there. And I probably know more about Rowena Arkham professionally and personally than any other living being. But you...I had to do a little research."

"Research? Is what we're both calling it, then, Captain? And, pray tell me, what did you discover about the man standing before you?"

Crossing her legs and leaning back in Lane's chair, a self-satisfied look crossing her face, Harwood said quietly, "How is Altair Kerr? Not very well is he?"

The colour flooded into the Trill's face, and he thrust his clenched fist down hard onto the desk, rattling a tea cup that sat in his saucer. "How dare you?" he shouted. "That's absolutely none on your concern!" He gritted his teeth together and his jaw muscles tightened into balls on the side of his face.

Harwood added, barely even missing a beat, "It was an interesting story. Why you promised to receive his symbiont. Kept me up reading most of the night. I must say, when people like you choose to hide something, it never fails to be interesting."

"Get out, now!" he said. "My personal past has nothing - nothing - to do with you! Get out!"

"As mine has nothing to do with you," Harwood said coolly rising from the chair and turning to leave. "Perhaps you should remember that before you send one of your men to poke his nose where it doesn't belong."

Lane stood there statically as Harwood wafted silently past him, her scent lingering in the air as she left. The Trill closed his eyes tightly as he felt the adrenaline that accompanies such anger surge through his veins. He clenched his trembling fist again, digging his short nails into the palm of his hand. As his face caught fire with the blood that surged towards his cheeks, he placed his open hand on the near side of his desk and with one fell swoop cleared the surface. The computer console, data PADDS, china teacup and water-filled vase splayed out across the room with a crash. He screamed with such vehement and anger that, as he came to his clear senses, the presence of people behind made him spin around. Two men and one woman, draped in gold uniforms, with hands clasping the handle of holstered phasers were stood in the open door to his ready room.

"Dismissed," he cried at them, as they looked blankly on. "DISMISSED!"

---

A POST BY:

CDR Coltan Lane
Commanding Officer, USS Archimedes
Task Force 72-C

and

CAPT Alexandra C. Harwood
Mission Advisor, USS Archimedes
Task Force 72-C

 

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